


City Girl 03: White Collar Jobs

by NervousOtaku



Series: Earth Pi Chronicles [3]
Category: Marvel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:38:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousOtaku/pseuds/NervousOtaku
Summary: Wilson Fisk was familiar with the faces that came to meet him, but they weren't a couple he would expect to mingle.





	City Girl 03: White Collar Jobs

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the pair waiting to see him.

Both were faces he recognized. One was a young upstart who went by the name Daken. The mutant that had attempted to become a kingpin himself at one point. The other one was the daughter of Iron Man. A baby-doll incapable of doing wrong, in the eyes of the public.

“Can we come in or are you gonna stare at us all fucking day?” Daken drawled.

“Hey, be nice.” Felicity scolded.

“Awfully interesting pair the two of you make,” Wilson stated calmly, “Why don't we go sit down and talk about why a public hero's daughter is in my building?”

“About time.” Daken declared, the two following after him as he turned away. “When you said this would take a while—”

“He's a busy man. I had to call ahead and make sure he wasn't out of the country several days before I even approached Dr. Connors. There was no guarantee he'd even be available today.” the little Stark informed her companion.

“So you would've had us sitting there all day? Is that what you're saying?”

“I'd have made it up to you.”

Wilson stayed quiet, listening to the back and forth between the two as he led them to his office. Iron Man's daughter, Felicity Stark, did not read as the type to associate with one like Daken. The rogue mutant had... quite the reputation. The sort mothers and fathers alike warned their baby girls away from, boys who would leave them broken and hurting. And yet here she was, a slip of a sixteen-year-old, bantering calmly with the man.

Reaching his office, he allowed them in first, closing the door behind them.

“So,” he said carefully, “To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Stark? And allow me to congratulate you on the success of your therapy android.”

For a moment, Wilson thought he saw a flicker of childish joy on the girl's face as he moved to his desk. “Thank you very much, Mr. Fisk. Seep was highly controversial when I first came up with his concept, but I'm very happy that those in the field genuinely want to employ his use.”

“I thought it's name was ANX?” Daken asked in a bored tone as he sprawled inelegantly across one of the chairs before the desk.

“Different android,” Felicity brushed off, sitting delicately next to the mutant, “But to answer your question, Mr. Fisk, I would like to make a proposition.”

He raised an eyebrow again.

“The kid wants in on our world.” the mutant drawled lazily.

“Oh? Miss Stark?”

The girl nodded, looking grim. “I aim to make as many ‘friends’ as I can within the industry. I see no need to tip my hand so early on and reveal my intentions, but the goal I have in mind cannot be achieved through... heroic means.”

Wilson nodded, thinking.

A hero's child, having an unheroic goal? That was certainly interesting. But as to what that goal could be?

“And what, Miss Stark, are you offering me in exchange for my services? There isn't much I can want for, after all.” he reminded her.

Felicity smirked, crossing her legs. “Charter and technology.”

“Charter? Kid, the guy's a politician. He can get his own car.” Daken declared.

“Exactly. You, Mr. Wilson Fisk, have remained out of jail. Even when arrested, you end up released shortly after because no one can truly pin anything on you. You hold power in the political world, crime world, and world of economic trade. But the law is always investigating you, always looking for a way to get you.” Felicity hummed.

“Go on.” Wilson nodded. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this.

“If Wilson Fisk orders a package, everyone and their grandma is going to try snooping through it, looking for drugs, weapons, smuggled gemstones or antiques, things of that nature. If Felicity Stark orders a package, no one bats an eye except when asking for a tip. In exchange for being my doorway into the white collar crime scene, I'll allow you to use my mail as your mule. I'll also supply you with technology when needed, state-of-the-art Stark-approved things. With some exceptions, of course. Just because I'm taking a path separate from my father doesn't mean I'll supply you with things that could be used to hurt him.”

He couldn't help but chuckle at her words. “A very loyal daughter, then.”

“My family is very important to me. I love both my father and mother very much, and if anything were ever to happen to either of them, I would launch every nuclear missile this planet has and obliterate everything.” Felicity answered, voice quiet and deathly serious, face an impassive mask.

Of course, she was a Stark. They were rather renown for having enough intelligence to pull things like that off. Wilson was willing to believe her.

“Now, Miss Stark,” he said as Daken began to fidget and fuss, “What services exactly do you want of me?”

“Information and introductions. Muscle in the corner and politics I can trust. Someone I can send things to and trust to hold them until I come to retrieve them. A wealth of names added to petitions against mutant and super-human registration.”

The last one had him blinking and Daken frowning.

“You aren't a mutant.” the upstart said, brow creasing.

“No. But there's a very good chance that any child I have will be. I do possess the X-gene, though it's dormant and inactive. X-gene abilities start coming in at the onset of puberty. For human females, that's approximately age twelve.” Felicity paused, tipping her head. She seemed to mull her own words over before lacing her fingers together and continuing, “I don't know which parent I inherited the gene from. Mutations appear genetically inherited from the father, which would imply that it's the Stark line. However, I'm pretty sure I got mine from my mother. And... there are implications of registries like that which I'm pretty sure people in favor of them don't consider. If you ask me, adding your name to a registry like that is slapping on a yellow star.”

Daken snorted, directing his attention out the window.

Wilson, on the other hand, said, “That's a very large statement to make. Very... politically charged.”

“Exactly. But isn't that what would happen? First, individuals would be forced to out themselves and reveal their identities. Next, some inevitable hate crime takes place, forcing the victim to resort to self-defense. The public takes the resulting damage, injuries, or death as an act of outright violence. Then mutants and super-humans start getting shuffled together into communities where they're told it'll be safe for them. Likely ones with tall electric fences, round-the-clock security, and guards armed with uzis. Then, at at least one of these communities, something happens, instigating a riot. Guards are killed. Residents are killed. And people worldwide start turning on each other.” Felicity explained, gesturing with her hands. “This isn't LGBT rights, this isn't immigrant rights, this is basic human rights. Unfortunately, no matter how much money and influence I have, I can only add my name to petitions against this once. And my father leans on the pro-registration side of things.”

That was interesting information. Wilson hadn't been aware that such debates were large enough to catch the attention of individuals like Iron Man. He knew that registration was a heated topic of increasing relevance, but at the moment there were no bills that he knew of in the states. Nothing he knew of elsewhere, either.

Of course, this girl before him didn't seem to be thinking in the short-term. She'd spoken of going to someone else in a manner that implied she went to them before forming whatever alliance she had with Daken. Due to the young man's loose cannon nature, Wilson knew that Daken had only arrived in the New York City two days ago thanks to his informants. And she'd been planning alternatives, it sounded like, in event that Wilson was busy. That was more forward thinking and planning than most twenty-year-olds displayed, let alone sixteen-year-olds.

For however long it ended up being, Felicity Stark had formed some kind of alliance with Daken. She'd come to him, Wilson Fisk, knowing full well who he was and what he did. This was a girl who had created three androids in a space of six years, donated regularly to various causes, and had the media drooling. She was in the top percent, had wealth and privileges and protection.

The other side of that coin, though, was that she had wealth and privileges and a well-known father. When the media wasn't watching heroes clash or politicians cheat, they were watching her, waiting for the scandal that would pay for their retirement. Any time she wasn't with her father or a guard of some kind, she was at increased risk of every possible bad scenario.

Wilson couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. “You, Miss Stark, drive a hard bargain.” he informed her.

She smiled, and it didn't take a genius to see how fake the expression was. That was the kind of smile you gave cameras while trying to take a walk.

“Well, as a man of business, would you like a written contract?” she chirped.

“No,” he told her, standing and walking around the desk, not missing how Daken perked up, “A handshake between associates should be more than enough.”

The fake smile became something more real as the girl stood up. More real, but less sweet. More twisted and dark, like the other people Wilson worked with. The natural size difference between them seemed almost comical as they shook hands. It certainly made Daken snort.

“If you don't mind, Miss Stark,” Wilson said, turning his gaze to the mutant, “I'd like to take a moment to speak with your friend.”

She hummed thoughtfully, turning her gaze to Daken. The man was staring up at Wilson with a predatory grin. Challenging him.

“... I see no reason why not. Daken, do try to behave. If you cause a scene we may have to postpone our trip while I explain things to my father.” Felicity shrugged, giving a curtsy before leaving the office.

Wilson waited a moment, then looked back to Daken.

“So, bub, what's up?” the upstart snarked, still sprawled lazily across the chair.

“You aren't known for playing well with others, Mr. Akihiro,” Wilson answered, crossing his arms over his chest, “So what makes Miss Stark worth any of your time?”

“Maybe that's for me to know and you to find out.” Daken grinned.

“Perhaps. Perhaps.” he nodded back, leaning carefully against his desk. “Perhaps you aren't as vicious as you make yourself out to be.”

That earned a scowl and growl.

“That would, of course, imply that you're following along with Miss Stark because you care for her on some level. But I don't think that's it. I think she regards you as someone not quite in her corner, but maybe along the same wall.” Wilson continued.

“Pfft. I don't think she sees anyone as in her corner except Doc Connors and her parents. Real Daddy's girl.” Daken scoffed, rolling his eyes and standing up. “She's interesting. Promised me more or less whatever I want as long as I work with her.”

That made more sense. A sort of carrot-no-stick method. She had no way to keep Daken, so she wasn't going to try. The man was free to do whatever he wanted. But as long as he helped her, Felicity would reward his aid. Personally, Wilson preferred to have some kind of metaphorical stick in hand, but if there was nothing one could do to punish someone, that became a moot point.

“I never thought I'd see the day where Iron Man's daughter turned to people like us over her father's team. It must be quite the goal she has.” he murmured, thinking out loud.

“I dunno,” Daken yawned, moving towards the door, “From what I've heard, this so-called unheroic goal of hers is ‘to make the world safe.’”

Wilson blinked as the mutant left.

That was hardly unheroic. In fact, that sounded an awful lot like what Tony Stark wanted. Where along the line did that become something anyone would deem unheroic?

**Author's Note:**

> Earth Pi and Felicity Edward Stark originated as a world-building and character-building exercise. However, both have grown and evolved since then. Now, I've decided to slowly nudge the resulting fanwork onto AO3.


End file.
